Tales of a Forgotten Time
by Monniemoo
Summary: These are the tales of Wammy's House before the destruction began, before Kira. A growing collection of anecdotes focusing on various Wammy's House characters including Mello, Matt, Near, Linda, and Roger. No pairings involved.
1. My Name Is Mello

Mihael stared suspiciously at the man across the table from him. He was old, even older than the woman who ran the orphanage. He looked at Mihael the way that the old woman looked at the papers on her desk. It made Mihael uncomfortable, and he squirmed a little in his seat. They sat in silence for a little while, which was far too long for the five-year-old's attention span and comfort.

Finally, the man spoke, though he kept his eyes on Mihael. His words were strange, unrecognizable. Mihael recognized the sound from television as a foreign language.

The man seemed to realize that Mihael didn't understand what he had said. "Pardon me," he said in German, and the boy understood him despite his thick accent. "You speak German, correct?"

Mihael nodded a little. "You're a Brit," he stated plainly, after a pause.

The man chuckled slightly. "You're a bright lad."

That was what the adults always said when Mihael said something that the orphanage owner would scold him for. Mihael glanced around quickly, imagining that she might pop up out of nowhere to punish him. The room was still empty, save for him and the man.

"My name is Roger Ruvie," the man introduced himself with a slight smile. "You may call me Roger, if you like."

"I'm Mihael," the boy shot back. "Mihael Keehl. You better pronounce it right."

Roger stifled another chuckle. Mihael didn't understand what he kept laughing at.

"Tell me, Mihael," he began after his face was serious again, "do you like living here?"

Mihael looked down at the table, scratching the wooden surface with his finger. "No," he admitted quietly.

"Do you like learning new things?"

Mihael didn't see what this had to do with anything, but he supposed he should answer the question anyway. "If it's interesting," he said truthfully.

Roger looked pleased. After another brief silence, he folded his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, looking very seriously down at Mihael.

"Now, I have one more question for you, Mihael, and I want you to think about it very hard. It is important that you answer it with complete and total honesty." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Could you leave this place, and the people here, and never come back again? Would you be sad if you could never see or talk to anybody you know ever again?"

Mihael looked him in the eyes and answered clearly and honestly. "No."

Roger leaned back, smiling slightly. "I believe we are done here," he said, standing up. "Go gather your things. We will be leaving as soon as I have talked to your caretaker about a few important matters."

Mihael sat glued to his seat in awe as he watched Roger walk out of the room. When he finally realized what had just happened, he leapt up out of his seat and ran after him, yelling, "Wait, you mean it?" By this time, however, the door to the old woman's office was shut and Roger was out of sight.

Mihael sprinted wildly up to his room and threw his things together, disregarding the blank stares of his roommates. "Bye forever!" he shouted over his shoulder as he lugged his heavy bag out of the room and down the stairs.

It took Roger long- too long- to leave the woman's office. When he did, he looked tired and upset, and Mihael worried that he wasn't going to leave after all. When Roger saw him, however, he smiled.

"Let me get that for you," he said, taking the bag from Mihael's small arms. "Come now, we have a train to catch," he told the boy as he led him out the door.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seben, eight, nine, ten," Mihael rattled off proudly.

"No, seven. With a v. Se-Ven," Roger corrected him patiently.

"Se-Ven," Mihael repeated carefully. "Seven."

"Yes, very good," he congratulated the small boy. He glanced at the screen showing the train map, then back at Mihael. "I think you've learned enough English for today," he informed him in German. "You'll learn more when we get there. Right now, we need to give you a new name."

"What's wrong with mine?" Mihael shot defensively.

"You can't use that name anymore. It's very important that you never tell anybody that name."

"Why?"

Roger sighed. "In the place we are going, it is a secret where you came from. You can't tell people anything about the orphanage you came from, or even about Switzerland. The other children know this, so they won't ask you questions about that. The most important thing, though, is that nobody knows your real name. You must keep the name Mihael Keehl a secret, okay?"

"I'll keep it a secret," Mihael agreed. If Roger said it was this important, then it had to be.

Roger smiled. "Alright, then. You are free to choose whatever you want for your new name."

Mihael thought about it for a moment, staring blankly out the train window. He noticed some of the walls alongside the train track were covered with swirls and squiggles of colorful paint. He remembered that he had once seen a guy making marks like that on a brick wall. Mihael had always wanted one of those magical cans with the button on top that made a wooshing noise when it was pressed and could draw on the outside of buildings. He clearly remembered what the guy had written in big black letters.

"M-E-L-L-O," he declared to Roger. "Mello."

"Are you sure?" Roger asked him.

"My- name- is- Mello," the boy stated in thickly accented English.

Roger chuckled. "Very well then." He pulled some papers out of the briefcase he had with him and scribbled something down on the lines.

The train slowed and finally pulled to a stop as they pulled into a station.

"Here we are, Mello," Roger told him, grabbing the small boys bag and taking his hand. "Welcome to Winchester."

As they stepped off the train, Mello smiled.


	2. The First Bite

Mello clutched a crisp five dollar bill in one small hand, his other enveloped by a larger bonier one belonging to an old, wrinkly woman in a sharp grey dress suit. The four-year-old wasn't too fond of the woman, but since she had given him the paper bill he had hung tightly onto since the morning, he complied with her hand-holding requirement. He stumbled a little behind her quick stride as she led him down the cracked sidewalks.

It was the first time that Mello had been outside the grounds of the house since he got there. He had hardly seen Roger since that first day. The old woman, Jocelyn, had told him that he was too young to take the class that Roger was teaching. She taught him all the time, so Mello didn't see why Roger couldn't come out from behind the Forbidden Door once in a while. Mello had liked it much more when Roger was teaching him English than when Jocelyn was. She was so picky.

Still, the woman had given Mello his first piece of money. Mello had seen money before, sitting on the table at the old orphanage. The other kids had even convinced him to take it once, but the adults found it. After that, he had never taken the money off the table again. Now, however, Mello had been given money, been told that it was his own, that he could spend it on whatever he wanted. He could pick anything, and if the number on the sticker was less than five, he could have it. That was what Jocelyn had told him.

Jocelyn stopped at a small store whose name was a little too complicated for Mello to read. He could read the sign on the door clearly, though- "OPEN." Jocelyn pushed open the glass door, which made a jingling sound as they entered. The place was an overwhelming swirl of packages of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Mello had just barely started taking things in when Jocelyn let go of his hand.

"Go ahead, pick out what you like," she told him.

Mello hardly knew where to start. There were so many things to see, so many words to read. He paused for a moment, astounded, but soon found himself running at a shelf of what he had determined to be candy. He heard Jocelyn calling for him to slow down as she followed him, but he ignored her, too enthralled with the colorful packages wrapping sweets that were displayed before him. He picked up each type of candy one at a time to examine it, reading every word he could and checking for the price number. All of the numbers were lower than five, enough so that he could get more than one!

A glimpse of silver on the highest shelf caught the small boy's eye. He stood on his toes and reached up towards it, his outstretched fingers just barely touching the smooth foil. He managed to grip the corner and pulled, bringing down what in his hands proved to be a rectangular bar, wrapped in silver foil and brown paper. The word "Chocolate" was printed in curly white lettering across the paper. It conjured the image of a delicious smell, a brown delight waved in front of his face and then snatched away before he could taste it. Now, he could have one. He hurried over to Jocelyn and held his prize up towards her.

"Now, can you afford that?" Jocelyn tested him.

Mello looked back down at the bar. The sticker read three dot five zero, which was definitely less than five dollars. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay, then, let's go buy it," she said, ushering him towards the counter. "Unless there's anything else you want."

"No," Mello told her, shaking his head. He approached the counter, which was a little taller than he was.

"Go ahead. Put it on the counter," Jocelyn told him. It was hard for Mello to part from his prize and his money, but he placed them both on the counter as she said. A moment later, his faith was rewarded with the return of the chocolate bar and two more bills, along with some coins. "Put them in your pocket," she advised, and he obeyed, all of his attention on his purchase.

Mello barely noticed as Jocelyn gently pushed him out of the store. All of his attention was on carefully pulling the paper off of the bar. He made a mistake and it tore horribly. After a moment of consideration, he decided it didn't matter and stuffed the ripped wrapper into his pocket. He next focused on the foil, which he again tried to preserve but ended up tearing. It was a small price to pay for the delicious brown chocolate beneath. Mello tried to bite into it, but it was too hard, so he snapped off a piece with his teeth.

It was possibly the most delicious thing Mello had ever tasted. He didn't even notice he was back at Wammy's House until he had eaten half of the bar and Jocelyn pried it gently from his hands, telling him that it wasn't good to eat too much chocolate at once, and that he could have the rest after dinner.

That was possibly one of the longest dinners of his four-year-old life.


End file.
